


Hands Clean

by Tochira



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-04
Updated: 2010-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 17:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tochira/pseuds/Tochira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Item #286 on the list of Reasons Not to Trust Your Coworkers:  Reno is involved in a perpetual prank war.  (Rude has learned to anticipate collateral damage.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Blink and you'll miss the pairing. Ditto the original character. This mainly exists because I was listening to a chemist friend list ways of abusing science-classroom supplies, and just couldn't resist inflicting a couple of them on Reno.

"Dude, quick, you got any good cleaning stuff in here?" Reno was really desperate this time, Rude noticed, because he hadn't paused for dramatic effect when he burst into the office, rifling through cabinets before he'd even finished his question. Then Rude noticed something else.

"Reno... do I want to know why your hands are black?" Completely black. Like he'd stuck them in a bucket of paint, or tar, or worse. It was usually worse. "You haven't been... vandalizing anything, have you?" It wasn't a question, not really, because Rude didn't really want to know. Especially not before he'd finished his first cup of coffee. It was too damn early for this.

"Haha, no, that would be easy--" Sad thing was, this was true, Reno was an old hand at tricky stain removal by now-- "but that asshole had to go and do something _special_." Cabinet doors slammed as Reno grew even more frantic. He spun around, glaring at Rude for not helping. Rude didn't care; it wasn't his problem (yet) (this time) and he smelled entertainment. Tseng would love hearing about this one.

"Who did? Special how? You must've done something really stupid, I'll bet."

"What-- why-- screw you! Why is it always my fault?! You know how she is, she needs no reason! She--"

"--Will always have a reason as long as you're still breathing, Reno." Lovely. Elise must have orchestrated whatever-it-was on his hands. Rude had to give it to her, eyeing Reno's soot-colored skin; it was the most (visible) physical evidence Reno had had stuck to his person in several months. He'd become much more cautious after the incident with the fake tattoos. "Where did that happen, by the way?" Rude, in his turn, had learned to exercise some care to avoid the scene of a prank-- or whatever one called it-- at least until Maintenance had discerned whether the cleanup required a Hazmat team or not.

"Bathroom. I turned on the water to wash my hands" (oh good, he really did do that occasionally, Rude noted) "and bammo, black skin." Reno had resorted to scrubbing vigorously with antiseptic wipes, which were of course having no effect whatsoever.

"Ah-hmm. This wouldn't happen to be payback for that stunt you pulled with the toilet seats, would it?"

"Piss off." Reno was eyeing a bottle of industrial-strength cleaning solution.

A sliver of a grin slid across Rude's face. "You'll have to go down to the chemical showers if you want to get rid of that stuff."

"Wanna bet?" Oh dear. Reno had progressed past the help-seeking stage and was well into the I'm-gonna-do-this-myself-even-if-it-kills-me-or-blows-things-up stage.

"Yes, let's. Loser buys lunch." Reno snorted in irritation or disbelief, one; Rude ignored it. "Tromp down there like a good boy, ask nicely if you can use the chem shower, and don't touch anything else on the way. I'm hoping I won't have to wipe the entire hallway after you leave. And take something to clean that faucet with, too," he added as Reno headed out the door.

"...Can't," Reno's voice bounced back from the hall.

"...Why?"

"Because the faucet's in the apartment," Reno hollered as the door to the stairwell slammed behind him.

Oh hell. Rude wondered if he should run back on his break and check the showerhead as well. ...Nah. He'd just let Reno be the first one to take a shower. Rude sighed the sigh of the long-suffering as he picked up the receiver and dialed Elise's extension. She'd probably appreciate the tip to go ahead and recode the locks on her doors. And windows. And her motorbike, and everything else she owned.

And if Reno ended up charcoal-colored all over, he'd be sleeping on the floor. No sense in taking any chances with their nice new sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> The stuff with which Elise booby-trapped the bathroom hardware is silver nitrate. (And yes, she put it on the shower head, too. She's nothing if not thorough.)


End file.
